She is overtaken by a sensation of unbeing. There is no other word for it.

Take me with you. I want a doomed love. I want streets at night, wind and rain, no one wondering where I am.

People are more than you think they are. And they're less, as well. The trick lies in negotiating your way between the two.

I seem to produce a novel approximately once every three years.

I don't have any regrets, really, except that one. I wanted to write about you, about us, really. Do you know what I mean? I wanted to write about everything, the life we're having and the lives we might have had. I wanted to write about all the ways we might have died.

This is what you do. You make a future for yourself out of the raw material at hand.

Here's a secret. Many novelists, if they are pressed and if they are being honest, will admit that the finished book is a rather rough translation of the book they'd intended to write.